


What About an Old Friend?

by bigasscutie



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crossover, I swear it's fun, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigasscutie/pseuds/bigasscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale meets Crowley after a very long time. Crowley has a gift for him, but it might bring them some Winchester troubles, with some two unexpected men along the way. In the end, the angel and the demon find themselves making a sweet, little deal. Crack, with a bit of romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What About an Old Friend?

Part One

It has been years, literally, years since Aziraphale has done something exciting. Or at least stimulating. Being an angel never helps then. When you're the good guy, there's no way you are going to have some real fun.

He wakes up. He showers. He eats. He feeds his cute, fat cat, God helps him that thing is seriously enormous. He walks. He enjoys his morning coffees and then he stays peacefully in his bookstore. Everything is so monotonous and boring, it doesn't even feel like life anymore. And let's be serious, that is a problem, since he's a bloody angel and therefore immortal.

It's one of those moments now, he's thinking about how many biscuits he has left at home, 'cause they are his favourite and he doesn't know if he actually has to get some on the way back home. It is without any doubt one of those moments of pure, agonizing, endless boredom. He's not really focused on anything, he can't even enjoy reading, or watching some of his beloved TV series, because yes, as an angel he has a right to have his own obsessions. Since he is so alone.

The bell of the shop's door rings. He doesn't look up, he has so little clients he knows it's probably the same old, sweet lady who sometimes pays him a visit, because she feels sorry for him. Fantastic.

It is a real pity though, not looking up, because his heart strikes when the sound of his new client's voice feels the static air up.

"Now, this must be the most thrilling book you got in here. Terrible, sad story. I read it once and, oh, I regret it so much right now. Like you must regret living all of your days in this dusty, little place. How do you even breathe, seriously? No. Stupid question, we don't need air." A sneaky laughter comes after that. And then a bump somewhere, meaning, whoever it is, they've thrown the book in their hand. And Aziraphale still hasn't looked up.

"I'm not caving up here, this must be another of my inexplicable hallucinations. There's no way in the world this is real. Ah, you almost got me there, my dear." He puffs and shakes his head, smiling hopeless. He actually picks up a random book and starts reading, like nothing ever happened. "I'm not listening to the fake sounds your shoes are doing against the floor, or your laugh, I'm not. Go fool someone else. Stupid mind." He's kind of trembling now, these things never end up in the right way, when they happen. "You know what? Buy some new shoes, these ones squeak way too much."

His silver blonde curls are covering his forehead and his view, but when he feels a hand under his chin, two fingers forcing him to look up, gently, he knows he's not imagining.

"Holy-"

"Hell. Yes I know, always reminds you of me. Nice place, bit hot. Home sweet home I used to say, but you know how this old good world keeps changing." A second passes.

"Hello angel." Crowley, Anthony J. Crowley, once a snake, now a demon, his ex companion of adventures, his Crowley, is standing right in front of him. He's smirking, and he's winking. That charming little piece of hell. He missed him so much, he could scream.

Awkwardly as it may seems, Aziraphale puts his entire hand over to touch Crowley's face, as if he was blind. He touches his nose, and his squeezed eyes, and his mouth, he investigates all over his head. Ears, hair and neck included. Then he stops, embarrassed and redder than ever in his face. He takes his curls away from his eyes, to see better. It is him. Boredom isnn't tricking him. That is fantastic.

"Cat got your tongue?" Crowley jokes, then thinks for a moment. "Oh my, I hope your flabby, dull pet didn't actually do anything. He could, that beast. I hate cats." He shudders at the thought.

"No. No he didn't. Poor Adam." He answers quietly.

"You named your cat Adam? Could you be any more obvious?"

"He's nicer than you anyway." He points at him. He is. Sadly and truly. He loves that cat.

Crowley makes an offended face of pure surprise. "How can you say that? I'm always nice with you. I even got you a thing." He leans over the counter with his arm bent. Their noses very close, Crowley's smile as bigger as it has ever been. Aziraphale missed that sassy, cocky devil. And anyone could see it, because he is smiling too.

"Why in a million years did you just come now? You know how I don't trust you. Never trust a demon, that's what they say up there." Aziraphale replies, eyebrows raised in an attempt to look serious and superior. Why is he even trying anyway?

"I was hoping you had gone beyond those tragic, fake beliefs. Don't you remember? You have something of a demon in you too. And I of an angel." He sighs happily. "And, why do you ask? Can't I pay you a simple visit of pleasure?" Crowley pushes away from the desk, pirouettes once and then looks at him, amused. "Why can't someone come and see his oldest friend, without explanation behind it?" He asks, moving his head in circles, to stretch his neck slowly.

"Because, as obvious as it is, you are.. well. You are Crowley. And even the devil himself is probably more trustworthy than you."

"Can you quit offending me?" He's pissing him off. His favourite hobby ever, he isn't a very innocent angel after all.

"Can you quit being so mysteriously annoying?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me." Aziraphale replies sharply.

"Don't make me feel so much at home, sweetie." Crowley's grin is probably the most enjoyable thing he ever felt in ages. He always loved this game of theirs, teasing and fooling around. They never did it so much at the start, but especially with the all apocalypse-thingy they had found each other way more comfortable around each other.

Aziraphale remembers their last lunch, at the Ritz. It had been the more natural, yet ambiguous, kind of meeting they ever had. They probably ended up drunk, but how could anyone had blamed them? The world almost ended, except that one little kid named Adam had decided that no, everything was fine the way it was, no reason to destroy it. And then he shouldn't have named his kitten Adam. Hell, they should have made a freaking statue of him.

Anyway, he remembers them talking and arguing about some stupid song, and about how Crowley was never going to see his dear Bentley again. Aziraphale's heart is still broken for that. They also talked about the waiter, who seemed to always exchange them for a couple, and that was actually a lot of fun, because then, when they were really drunk, Crowley pretended the whole road home to actually be his longing dear husband, and Aziraphale had never laughed so much.

Back to the present though, Aziraphale focuses a second on Crowley's hand. There is a piece of paper in it.

"Is that what you have for me?" He asks, eyeing at it.

"Mh?" Crowley looks down quickly, frowning. "What? This? No, no this, my friend, it's nothing important." He winks again. Damn him. Even if that really doesn't fit the situation, he's already damned.

Crowley starts pacing towards the door, making Aziraphale following him.

"There's just one thing you should now, before seeing what I got for you."

"I'm ready to know." He promises.

"Because I'm such a nice guy with you, and because I have to make it up for the twenty years of absence, I decided you deserved a thing. But-" Aziraphale punches him on his shoulder for that.

"Ouch!" Crowley yells. He frowns at him, his face in pain. The angel is a creature of the Lord, but he is strong. Enough to hurt him right.

"That's for the twenty years." He clears his throat. "Go on, darling."

"Yes, whatever. Bloody angels." Crowley mutters to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. So. I was saying, that to make it up for that, indeed, I had something for you. The only problem is that it was the last piece existing and there was some fussing with the owners. But now it's fine, just fine. Before you say anything at all. They might be angry, but let's not worry about that, shall we?" Crowley hurries every word towards the end of his little speech, afraid that Aziraphale would do something. But he doesn't. He thinks for a second, and then talks.

"My dear. Why?" He finally asks him, confused and already a bit annoyed.

"Because I missed you. Isn't that the reason why people like this little ritual of exchanging things? For nice feelings? I thought it was obvious." Crowley smiles, this time without the demonic air, almost innocently. Wow.

"Okay. Let's see this thing then." He sighs, but smiles, because that is actually nice.

When they step out of the door, Aziraphale has to rub his eyes, and pinch himself to make sure he is awake. He can't believe his eyes. Crowley is more than nice, he's amazing.

Standing in front of him, there's a beautiful black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and the demon is right, it's the last existing, after the almost apocalypse and the twenty years passed. And Aziraphale had told him, the last day they were drunk, how much he loved that car. It was his guilty, angelic pleasure. It's his idea of a Bentley. And he can't believe it.

"You know what?" He announces after some minutes of a stupid smile on his face. "I missed you too."

"You sure?" Crowley teases him, making eye contact with him, pure satisfaction in his look.

"Absolutely. A hundred percent. Yes."

"Good." Aziraphale hears the cracking smile on Crowley's face while he's patting his back, like old friends do. Then he sees him going opening the driver's door, and resting on it, he makes him sign to enter. "Try it. Don't be scared. I am always going to be a better driver than you anyway, don't be embarrassed either." He charmingly says before basically pushing Aziraphale into the car, because he's still standing still, happy enough with the view of his new awesome car.

Finally inside, with the motor on and already driving, Aziraphale is more than happy. He's excited and he feels like all his boredom is actually worth this, he does deserve this.

"Where are we going now?"

"Somewhere nice, I was thinking maybe we could go to the park as good old times. Or maybe you just want to enjoy your car riding and I can go away, I have things to do anyway."

"The park? Do you know it's literally five minutes from here? By foot." Aziraphale sniggers.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I wanted to leave you alone with the love of your life."

"Hey, I'm not the only one in love with cars here."

"Oh, believe me, I know."

Aziraphale thinks about what he means by that, but then he recalls the other words his friend said. "I don't want you to leave. If you can't have your old Bentley back, at least enjoy this." He sweetly stares at him, forgetting the road. He's always so sad when he remembers Crowley has lost the only thing he actually loved. He doesn't know but that wasn't the only thing cold, heartless Crowley has feelings for.

"Well then, let's go ride this beau-" He doesn't finish his phrase when his phone rings. I Like Big Butts echoes in the car and Crowley picks up making an annoyed face. "What?" Aziraphale keeps driving, tapping his fingers on the wheel, happily.

"What did YOU SAY?" Crowley suddenly yells. One of those cases when it all seems quite at the beginning but in reality he's just really pissed off.

"You lost them?" He nods with his head, with gritted teeth, his hand ties. "I'm on my way. God, you are in so much trouble." The call seems finished but there's one last thing he shouts. "SHUT UP YOU MORON." His face completely angry and red, he turns towards Aziraphale, and sighs.

"We have a problem."

Part two

"Anthony!" Aziraphale is furious. Choleric. Mad. Infuriated. Seriously, all the adjectives one can think of can't explain how he is feeling right now.

"What? I am so sorry if I tried to make you happy!" Crowley is shooting one excuses after another, actually. "It wasn't intentional, okay? Chill out, good Lord."

"You are telling me to chill out!?" Aziraphale screams madly. "I am not the one who's actually put his best friend in a deadly situation, with two of the most dangerous men for us, supernatural creatures, just to give him a gift. For a car!"

"I'm really touched now." Crowley loses his serious, anxious face in exchange for an idiotic smirk and a pleased look.

"Touched about what?" Aziraphale asks as a surrender by now.

"You said best friend. You should work more on how to express your feelings, but that's okay too." Aziraphale could punch him this second, he's totally not in the mood for that.

"Shut up." He hushes him.

"Make me." Aziraphale throws him a sceptical stare and doesn't say a word.

They park the car and arrive right in front of Aziraphale apartment's door. Crowley talks all the way through, but the truth is that he screwed up, and now there is a real possibility of trouble, and oh, not to forget, death. Aziraphale has been the calmest person for ever now, but having two killers chasing you isn't the greatest thing, and he still can't believe Crowley has been so irresponsible. There has to be something else. Anything.

"What are you doing?" Crowley stops him, not giving him the time to even take his keys out.

"Ahem, going in?" He raises his eyebrows. "Are you scared?" He asks him apprehensively. The demon can still make him worried, unbelievable.

"Maybe." He breathes. "It's not like I fear for my life, are you kidding me?" Crowley hand is still stopping Aziraphale's arm and when he realizes it, he pulls back. "Look. I am not going to go on a killing mission. Again."

"What do you mean, again?" Aziraphale has never known a wimpier demon than him. And that's all saying.

"I mean that one time I tried to make a milkshake and almost had all my fingers chopped with the mixer. I'm talking about the nearly Apocalypse thing here! Or did you forget that? I though that as best friends memories should be connected. Silly me."

"I swear, one more sarcastic comment and I'm going to punch you." Screw the patient and his gentle spirit, Aziraphale has really had enough. Nobody is going to die. Crowley is paranoiac, and he's conditioning him a bit too much. And yes of course he remembers.

"Try to avoid my face though, I grew quite fond of my nose." Crowley crows. And unfortunately that is it. Aziraphale pushes him against the wall, violently, he knows he's not really hurting him. He's about to actually punch him, but he stops. His hand falls down, the other one, which is gripping his jacket, lets go. He breathes deeply, closing his eyes. He needs a moment. When he reopens his eyes he stares at Crowley and then he adjust his tie and pats his chest. The other man is still and holding his breath, not saying a word, but he's trying so hard to hold back a smile. He likes his angel like that, when he loses it. He never does that.

When Aziraphale is done collecting himself, turns around and finally opens the door. He's million of years old. He knows what to expect, he has already a plan to avoid any kind of danger, but that is still weird. There are two men tied up on two chairs, muffled and probably passed out. And other two men, one really tall and big, with long, brown hair, and near him one smaller, but still tall, short auburn hair, big green eyes, basically a standard of handsome.

They are looking at him, slightly surprised at the start, but now confident and angry. Aziraphale and Crowley against two, apparently, strangers.

"I want my baby back, you son of a bitch." The shortest one talks, his voice is rough and low, not really expected. He's holding a knife, which is not good, and he's holding it energetically.

Aziraphale feels Crowley's presence behind him.

"Hello boys." He states grinning.

Of course. Of course he knows them more than well, more than two simple occasional, deadly hunters who he simply stole a car from.

"You can have your car back." Aziraphale simply says. Very calm now. He understands that must be the original owner. He feels guilty for them, sad for the Impala. But whatever.

"What?" Both Crowley and the short guy gasp.

"No way." Crowley adds quickly. "Done." The other says.

"No! I worked my ass off to catch this idiot and his moose brother. You're keeping the car." The tall one rolls his eyes and snorts. Crowley paces towards them, calling their attention, but he doesn't go near them, instead he aims to the other two seated. He slaps one of them a bit. "WAKE UP!" His yell startles everyone, included the passed outs. They almost fall off their chairs and look around perplexed mumbling words in the confusion. Crowley points at both of them.

"You. And you. You're fired." His mouth nearly moves and he's using his peeved tone. Not good.

"You told me it was all settled, that there weren't any problems. That's not true, so please, take your car back." Aziraphale is a kind soul.

"Sam. Take the keys and let's go." Apparently the tall one is called Sam. And Aziraphale understands what's going on.

"You must be Dean." He states. "I know you. You are Sam and Dean Winchester. Famous and dangerous hunters. It's so nice to meet you." He smiles quietly, honesty in his words.

"Don't sympathize with the enemy!" Crowley yells. "Traitor." He hisses offended. Aziraphale hears that, but doesn't reply.

"They are not the enemy for me." And the situation is much simpler than he expected, fortunately.

"How do you even know us?" Dean growls. "How does he know us?" He asks Crowley this time, confused. "Freaking angels."

"Dean, calm down. I only know you because Castiel had told me about you." Aziraphale responds.

"Castiel is your friend?" This time is Sam the one who talks. His voice much less deep. "Why didn't he saying anything?" He asks his brother.

"Probably because getting Crowley, and my baby, is more important than his stupid friend."

"But he would have said something. He's still one of his brothers."

"Look, I don't care, okay? I just want to get the hell out of here." Dean snaps, and after taking the keys from Aziraphale hands, they aim for the open door.

"That was cute, boys." Crowley claps his hands slowly, and then the door shuts violently, leaving them blocked inside. He's starting to speak when one of the two men on the chairs mumbles through his patch. The demon rips it away, so annoyed.

"Finally. Thank you." The man says, stretching his jaw. He's pale, thin, with big black eyes, black, now messy hair and a kind of look which no one would trust. He's completely different from the Winchester, or from his partner, which is tanned, with short straight hair, confident and with a serious face, ice eyes and a very bored expression right now, as if the situation wasn't anything special.

"What do you want now?" Crowley asks irritated.

"First of all, could you free my sniper too? Second of all, nobody fires me. Third, we just weren't expecting them. This is all an unpleasant accident." Crowley gives the other his voice back, with a mad gesture.

"Boss. We are never working for him again. Never." The blond one speaks.

"Shut up, Sebby. You know I had to."

"Shut up THE BOTH OF YOU!" Crowley shouts, red in the face, angry as hell, he can't stand it anymore.

Everyone hears Dean chuckles. "Yeah, accident." He keeps laughing, and the two seated look at each other, mortified and embarrassed. Sebastian squeezes his fists and tense, while the other immediately leaves his uncomfortable expression and smirks too.

"Excuse me? What happened here exactly? What is happening right now?" Aziraphale finally declares. "This is my house, and I want you all out of it. Now." He actually goes to untie the two men and then opens the door, making a sign that clearly means get out. Sam and Dean don't wait even for a moment and flee away with an entertained goodbye, the other two both stare at Crowley for some time and then leave, arguing in a low voice, pushing each other. Crowley stands still, mouth open, incredulous for what's just happen. He worked so hard to catch those guys, obviously the car was just a plus, that didn't turn out to be nice as he expected.

Aziraphale has his hands on his hips. He's critically looking at Crowley with fire in his eyes.

"You too."

"What? No."

"Yes."

"But nothing happened after all, no one is trying to kill you."

"Except for the fact that they are trying to do that with you."

"We are not friends, if that's what you're saying, but deeply those boys can't ever resist me. It's a love-hate relationship, what we have."

"Then why were you so scared?"

"Because they could have killed me. They're smart and if I know one thing: is to never trust a Winchester." He doesn't imply that they could have killed Aziraphale too. Selfish as ever.  
"I don't even care what the car was all about then. I don't care why you had to catch them so hard. I don't care about your reasons." He looks down and sees his little Adam afraid too death under his couch. "They scared my cat! That's it. Get out."

"Loo-"

"Now." He's deadly serious, and Crowley gives up and disappears in a puff.

Aziraphale takes Adam in his arms and starts to calm him down and pets him. He then collapses on his sofa and sighs deeply. He doesn't know what just happened, why there were so many people in his apartment or why Crowley did all of that if it was just to create troubles. Why the Winchester were trying to kill him, probably that was the usual, or why Crowley hired two normal men to keep an eye on his house. He doesn't care about the rudeness, and he doesn't care if he actually cared to meet Sam and Dean better, for once. He just wishes nothing ever happened and that it is all an actual hallucination.

Part three

Aziraphale spends three days at the bookstore, then at home, then at the bookstore, and again and again. Nothing happens, and it almost seems as if everything is okay. He feels like he never saw Crowley again, as if he never stopped feeling alone. He is a bit sad, but in the end that's his life, and he likes it. More or less. Sometimes. Maybe. Lying is a sin.

One afternoon he's heading back home, he's in the middle of the street, thinking about life, when he hears a horn behind him and a black car approaches him. When he turns around, the driver's window is lowered and he recognizes the man from the other day, called Sebby, Sebastian in real life he deduces.

"Get in." He hears someone kicking him, and after that the driver clears his throat and continues. "Please." It's such a forced please that his face actually wince and he attempts a smile, which comes out totally wrong and creepy, with a little stick stuck between his teeth.

"Why would I?" Aziraphale asks, he knows already Crowley is behind this, and he wouldn't be too pleased to see him right now. It feels like they argue a bit too much.

"Because!" The passenger shouts, annoyed and bored, in a way that says just get this done already. It's the voice of the other one, the man with the psycho face.

"Boss, would you, please, shut up?"

"Stop. Giving. Me. Orders. Or I'll have your tongue cut off."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. So, can you do me this favour and actually come? Seriously, you would make me a free man." These are the words of a man who's had enough after years of troubles and instructions and who doesn't give a shit anymore. Aziraphale sighs, and decides to face Crowley, it has to happen anyway, he might as well do that now.

He gets into the car, that has a very pleasant smell and is very clean. The two in the front are still arguing and the situation is awkward and weird for the angel, while he feels as the third wheel between a couple he doesn't even know. Of course he's not even sure they are a couple. Probably not. They remind him of him and Crowley. He laughs to himself.

"You always have to tell me what to do. I'm not the silly, little, stupid boy I was when I started working for you! You can quit doing that. I'm so pissed at you." Sebastian protests.

"I will kill you. In your sleep. When you're less expecting it."

"Oh please, you would never. I'm your best man."

"You're my only man." The other whispers really quiet and only Aziraphale angel's ears hears that.

"Have you got something to say, Jim?"

"Yes. I'll kill you twice now. Twice." Jim states, mad.

Sebastian turns over to talk to Aziraphale, putting his harm on the top of his seat. "You know, he didn't use to be like this. He was so scary at the start. Really, he could have killed you with his eyes, but now-" He puffs.

"Now he softened a lot. He tries, though. Look what I can do now!" And after that he stings Jim's cheek, that is now totally red because of the anger. Sebastian keeps pinching and squeezing but nothing happens. "See? Once he would have eaten my hand. But I have power now!" He cackles with a shining expression of satisfaction.

"I probably won't wait for the night. I'll kill you right now." Jim articulates slowly. But Sebastian keeps smiling, always addressing to Aziraphale.

"I don't know if this all happens because he learned to love me more, and that I doubt, or because of the entire demonic thing and deal. Probably that." He waits a moment and then looks Jim right into his eyes, squeezing his own. "I am still so mad for that, you prick."

"What deal?" Aziraphale knows something about them, and he knows they always imply something naughty and nasty behind it.

"Oh, he wanted someone dead and he made this stupid deal with Crowley for which now he's going to die, in like, nine years. And I personally don't care about that, we'll probably die before that moment, working on some dangerous case."

"What?" Jim says out loud and surprised. "You said you were pissed because I was going to die, and without me you wouldn't have any job." He pouts.

"Oh, that. No, I couldn't give a shit less."

"So why where you so angry?"

"Because you-" He's hesitates, but then gives up, what the hell he thinks. "Because you kissed him!" Aziraphale sniggers and immediately shuts up, seeing the look on Jim's face. He doesn't even know why he does that, he's an angel, he has more power than a hundred men together.

"It's part of the deal. It's how you seal it, what did I have to do? You wanted Mycroft and all his company dead as much as me! Don't you dare blame me."

"And who's blaming you? You just could have done it the old school way. With me. God, I hate you so much." These two sound even more like an old married couple than anyone ever probably.

"I kissed so many other people, why are you even bothering with this?"

"Because we had something going the same day! That was sneaky and unfair and you're an asshole."

"I'm a bloody psychopath, what were you even expecting?" At that point Sebastian actually punches him in the face, without even noticing the road.

"What the fuck?!" Jim explodes and punches him back on his shoulder, probably hurting himself more than Sebastian. He places his own hand over the bruise and strokes gently, making hurt noises.

"How do you enjoy being a psychopath now?" Sebastian stresses. "We have arrived. You can go, you'll know where to." Sebastian says to Aziraphale, who doesn't hesitate a moment and leaves that place of insanity.

When he steps out he immediately recognizes the place. It's Crowley's building, with his awesome and wide apartment. He hasn't been there for long he barely remembers it, even though sometimes unconsciously he would walk in front of it to feel a bit of melancholic pain. He goes inside, takes the elevator, and when he finds himself on the landing he waits. He doesn't know if he actually wants to do this, but what choice does he have? Plus, his days are boring anyway, so it's not that bad. He knocks three times and stands there.

The door opens but there's no one there, so he decides to go in without any problems. "Crowley?" He appeals. "Is there anyone here?" He takes three steps and then decides to leave, but when he turns around he hears a voice calling him. "I'm over here." Every word is drawled and confused, it's him, obviously.

Aziraphale goes over the living room just to find the demon lying on the couch, one leg up and the other left to its own and his arms open as if he was asking for a hug, but in one of them there's a bottle of wine. His cheeks are reddish and he's a bit sweaty and smiling stupidly. He's not wearing his jacket, just a white nice shirt, sleeves rolled up, and his red tie loosened.

"Hello gorgeous." He slurs bizarrely with a funny voice.

"Hello." Aziraphale feels pity for him, but that he doesn't let that shine through.

"I know you are cross with me."

"Yeah."

"But there's no reason." Crowley tries to get up leaning on his own arm, but he collapses straight away. "Do you want some?" He asks Aziraphale handing him the bottle. "Took me four of them to be drunk. Hate being a demon." Crowley confesses, but then thinks about it and changes his mind. "The hell, I love being a demon." He laughs drunkenly.

"Give me that." Aziraphale surrenders and takes the bottle sitting on the couch in the only spot left free, next to Crowley. He takes a sip, even though he knows it's not going to have an effect on him, but whatever. "You may be right." The angels admits. "I probably overreacted, I'm sorry." He doesn't know when he though all of that, but he's saying right now and getting along with it.

"Exactly." Crowley responds, taking the bottle back.

"That doesn't mean that you did a good thing though."

"How come? It was a gift."

"Yes, but I don't like the idea of you being chased. And we both know it's not only for the car."

"Of course it isn't. But honestly, between you and me mate." He raises up a bit, to lean closer over Aziraphale's ear. "I was expecting them to be a little more lethal than they were." He goes back down again, letting himself go. "Such a disappointment."

"What a disaster they let us live you say. I agree." Aziraphale smiles sweetly at drunk Crowley.

The other pretends to be amused, fake laughing and then places a hand over Aziraphale's leg, which gives him a shiver down his spine. Nobody's touched him in ages, literally.

"Look, those two. They ruined my life, seriously. And now there's this tablet thing going on and they could shut the gates of hell. Forever. MY HELL FOR CHRIST'S SAKE." He cries at the end and then sighs and dramatically puts a hand over his face.

"Your hell?" Aziraphale is surprised. What does Crowley mean? Last time he knew the guy he hated the place. He didn't want to have anything to do with it or any other demons, and now this?

"Yes. Yes my hell. A lot happened while I was away. Quick update for you with the lost face then. I started to make deals with people, kissing around and taking souls. Then business got serious. Moose and squirrel helped me some times, other times they tried to kill me. Now I run hell, I'm a king actually." He smirks and weeps. "I want the tablet. They have the tablet. One is missing. I want them dead or at least stopped for a long time. I stole the car because I thought I had them, but I don't so now I'm still on the losing side and I hate it. I am a king and two stupid humans manage to overcome me, what a joy for my ego."

"I believe that will be good for you ego." Aziraphale points out.

"Seriously, what's your problem, mate?" He shoots him an unfriendly look.

"I mean, I'm sorry they took that from you, or whatever. And, hmmm, congratulations about being king, I wasn't listening to anyone, I didn't know. And what if they close hell down? That may be good."

"Oh yes. Because I'm keen to live a life like yours, or better yet I will be so happy to have all you dull, maniac angels run things around. Amazing. Thank you."

"Nothing is wrong with my life." Aziraphale interrupts. "And, yeah, all angels isn't the best thing as well, you're right again, my dear."

Crowley hums. "I like when you call me that, sweetheart." Aziraphale blushes all over, also because Crowley's hand has moved a up and now they are seriously close. The best thing to do is turn his head, but his mind takes a couple of silent minutes to realize that. Then he clears his throat. "And I don't recall you calling me sweetheart ever." He gets up because the tension is eating him alive.

"Why did you drag me here?" Crowley looks up sad and disheartened. "I wanted to say sorry. And God forgives me…well, if there was one actually caring, please help me."

"Why should I do that?"

"'Cause we're mates?" Crowley attempts a charming smile.

"I suppose." Aziraphale thinks as a demon for a moment. "What's in it for me, though?"

Crowley opens his eyes wide and then his smile actually turns into a devilish sneer. "We could make a deal." Aziraphale's heart stops right there. He knows how a deal has to be sealed, and nope. The though is a bit too much for his poor, almost innocent mind.

"A deal?" He stutters. "I'm not giving you my soul, are you insane?" Maybe that covers up the anxiety appearing on his face.

"Don't be dumb. Of course you're not giving me your soul. If I have to get to that, I'll have it my own ways." Crowley gets up and reaches for Aziraphale, who's unconsciously moving back. But Crowley doesn't seem to notice and places a hand right over his heart. Then pats it a bit too strongly, making the angel swing, and takes it back. He still is very close though, leaning over Aziraphale's left side. "You are helping me getting the tablet back an-"

"No killing." Aziraphale interjects him.

"And no killing." Crowley continues, looking him in the face now. "I will do you a favour, whenever you want, I swear."

"Anything?"

"Sure, honey head." Crowley gently puts a hand behind his neck and plays with his little curls.

"That doesn't make any sense. I'm an angel. I never need anything." Crowley rolls his eyes at that, and while Aziraphale is going crazy at the feel of his hand, he lets go of it and the touch goes away.

"Blah blah, boohoo." Crowley comments in his sassy, annoying, typical way. "Come on, anything."

"I'll help you and I'll think about it, all right?"

"No deal?"

"Not for now. Maybe when it's all over, maybe never."

Crowley squeezes his eyes and observes him, then his face relaxes and he smiles, his eyes watering from all the alcohol. "Done."

Aziraphale goes near him and packs him on his back as good friends do and then awkwardly Crowley collapses asleep on his arm, and it takes a bit of strength for Aziraphale to keep him lifted and toss him on the couch. When he starts snoring Aziraphale is sure he can leave. He takes a long, loving look at him and thinks how sweet he seems when he sleeps. All that sarcasm put down, it's great sometimes.

Aziraphale touches his hand just once and then stops. "What am I even doing?" He whispers to himself. He walks toward the door, looks back once and then leaves.

When he gets down the same car who brought him at Crowley's apartment is still there. Only difference is that he can see Sebastian and Jim outside. Making out. They are against the car and Jim's hands are digging into Sebastian's hair and gripping, while Sebastian's hands are everywhere except where they should be. And that, that is awkward for Aziraphale.

He gets there and clears his throat, twice. When they notice him there's a rush of movements and unknown, confused words and they basically take an entire step back to separate. Sebastian is pepper red and Jim is smiling triumphantly, because with this one, he wins. But they are still both apologizing and throwing excuses in between mumbled cries. Aziraphale laughs lightly and puts an hand on Sebastian shoulder just to calm him down.

"It's fine boy. It's not the first time I see two people kissing. Love is a great thing, embrace it." He's obviously mocking him, but Sebastian is even more mortified now and he sneaks into the car quickly avoiding everyone. When finally even Jim and Aziraphale take their places, they take the angel back home.

He has now one day of relax, then the call comes and that's it.

Part four

"So where is it?"

"With him. On him. Always. He never leaves it, sadly."

"And how are we planning on taking it?"

"I'm working on it."

"Take your time. Not my problem anyway."

"Thanks, so helpful."

"You're welcome, my dear."

"Shut up. You'll see."

The next hour Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves outside a simple, dull diner, next to a black Impala, hidden in the parking lot. Crowley tells Aziraphale the Winchester are inside and they have a chance to get the tablet now, but the supernatural way of doing it it's completely out of question.

Aziraphale feels confused, because there is no other way. Except there is, and it's absurd and brutal.

"No way I'm doing that. No. Keep dreaming. You're crazy. I'm telling you, crazy." Aziraphale repeats this words at least a hundred times before Crowley actually slaps him to make him stop. And it works. Aziraphale stops at the middle of a sentence and close his mouth.

"You will do this. They don't even remember you too much, plus, honey, you have such a pretty, gentle feminine face." Saying this Crowley brushes a hand on Aziraphale's cheek, pretending him to be a cute, sweet girl. And he can't help laughing at that because Aziraphale's look is just priceless. He's boiling inside, but he promised and if that's the only way, he'll make an effort. For the love of God and all saints and Crowley, obviously.

Twenty minutes passes and Aziraphale comes back.

"Well, how do I look?" He says it so deeply, the all situation seems even more ridiculous. Crowley cracks this time, he laughs so hard an old lady turns around to actually check on them with a worried face.

Aziraphale is wearing a cute, comfortable, summery dress, long up to his knees. Of course he shaved, and that makes everything even worse. He's also wearing a pair of red heels and a nice jacket to cover up his manly shoulders. Also a leathered, big bag. The fact that he's actually dumpy but slim helps his figure. He put some make up on, mascara, eye shadow and lipstick included, which give him a weird look but it could be worse. He actually thinks is a good idea to wear sunglasses, to hide him better. His hair is replaced by a big ginger wig, that actually suits him just fine, and for how strange it seems, he is a quite pretty lady.

And that, that makes Crowley laughs even more, making him internally questioning his own thoughts, because he's finding him vaguely attractive.

Since Crowley isn't stopping with his cackling, Aziraphale kicks him with his heel, which actually hurts, and satisfied with it he flaps his hair and points womanly proud to the restaurant, moving his curves just to prove Crowley he can be a fine woman. But Crowley still chuckles.

The plan is to distract Dean someway and then Aziraphale should be so charming to actually steal the beloved tablet without him noticing it. Difficult, but not impossible.

Once in Aziraphale looks around and spots Sam and Dean, eating some sandwiches and checking things on their computer. He approaches the table and makes accidentally, but not at all, Dean's drink spill on the table and on him, dirtying his shirt.

"Sorry, oh. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to, sorry. Seriously. Do you want some help? Please I can help." Aziraphale speaks very quickly, with an high voice, to sound as girly as he can. He starts touching Dean everywhere, pretending to dry him with a tissue, to search for the tablet, when he sees it inside his jacket. Dean sounds so annoyed when he looks down and begins saying there's no problem, he doesn't need any help, but then he looks up and his tone changes. He clears his throat and adjusts himself.

"Please stop apologizing. It's all right, I've got this." He sounds very calm and charismatic now, and, oh my god Aziraphale can't believe it, it actually seems as if Dean is vaguely attracted to him.

Aziraphale recalls every romantic movie he ever watched and decides that keeps touching Dean in all the worse places is the best he can do.  
"Oh no, please let me help you with that. Please. I have some something in my precious bag which could help you with that stain, if you could just follow me in the bathroom. I'm sure I can help." It turns out Aziraphale is the kindest but fascinating woman ever for the guy, because it only takes a nod from Sam to have him got up and headed for the bathroom. Aziraphale feels like he can actually do this, hoping nothing too awkward will happen in the bathroom.

When they arrive at the bathroom's door Dean is being a gentleman and opens it for him.

"So what's the name of the beautiful lady who ruined my shirt today?" He smirks. Not even Aziraphale can deny it, he's handsome all right.

"Hmmm." Well now, he didn't think about that. "Angela." So freaking original, he thinks. But that's okay, because Dean finds it beautiful, and while he does that, he slips a hand on Aziraphale's waist, but not in a pesky way, sweetly actually. Aziraphale doesn't really know what to do so just plays along with it and fakes a chuckle.

"Do you want to give me your jacket darling?" He says leaning against Dean's chest, his hands grabbing the collar of his jacket. Big mistake though, because Dean actually leans in even more and he's almost kissing him, if not that Aziraphale shrugs and basically forces him to take his jacket off, laughing nervously and murmuring words. Damn Dean certainly knew how to take it slow.

While he's making stupid, useless conversation with Dean, something catches his hearing, awesome angelic power. He hears Crowley talking to him. Oh bollocks. We have a problem here, mate. Moose saw me and I'm going in to save the situation. You better take that thing fast before the all plan blows up. NOW.

"Holy shit." Aziraphale never swears, but it already feels like he's doing a lot of things that he usually never does, therefore he doesn't really care. Only thing is that that comes out with his normal, deep voice, and Dean notices it. "What's that?" He asks confused, taking a step back from him to take a serious look at him. And he keeps noticing things.

In the mean while Aziraphale is leaning over the counter where he left Dean's jacket and with his arms and hands behind his back is trying to take the tablet, still giving him sweet puppy eyes and chuckling awkwardly, apologizing and saying he hasn't heard anything.

Hello moose. He tries to listen to what's going on in the room too. What a coincidence, meeting here. Where's your awesome brother today? Not here. Mh maybe he got sick of you, finally. Crowley, seriously? Couldn't you be a little be gentler with him? Of course no. What are you doing here? I'm calling Dean and you stay out of this. No! The king of hell basically screams.

And that's when Aziraphale panics and just turns around, takes the tablet and runs out of the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Dean shouts, tries to grab Aziraphale by his hair but he only manages to take the wig away. Fantastic. "You son of a bitch!" Aziraphale is now running towards the enter door, without even caring to look for Crowley, but eventually he pays attention to him. He's forced to, because he hears him cries out, in a grunt of pain. When he turns to watch the scene he sees Sam with his angel knife stick into Crowley's hip. At least it's not a mortal wound.

"Anthony!" Aziraphale is shocked and just stands still before actually realizing Dean is coming at him, and he has to do something.

He rushes to Sam and punches him hard enough to numb him. He grabs Crowley quickly and he yells him to hurry, while Dean is trying to help Sam. Crowley manages to walk very fast and before leaving diner Aziraphale uses his angel's powers, which has been unused for centuries probably, and throws the Winchester towards the wall, in a really aggressive and hasty way. That should give them some time.

Out in the park they reach for their car. It's just next to the Impala, and when Crowley shoots a hurting sneer to Aziraphale, looking first at him then at the car, the angel loses it.

"NO. We are not taking the car, too!" He doesn't even listen to what Crowley has to say, he just takes him by his arm and throws him into the car. Just before entering into it himself he has an idea. He hesitates a moment and then places a hand over the bonnet of the Impala and makes the motor blow up. He feels guilty, because he just destroyed a bit of a very rare piece of beauty, but he had to.

"I'm so sorry." He says to the car. He throws away his heels, which are killing him, then jumps into his own car and darts away. He has just enough time to see Sam and Dean trying to turn on the car before he loses the sight of them. The rest of the trip and the conversation is just confusion and fury.

"What were you even thinking?!" Aziraphale screams at Crowley, barely looking at the road. He is so worried and his heart hasn't stopped jumping and he thinks he might have a heart attack. He's not used to this, and especially he's not used to have his only friend wounded. Almost to death. For a stupid tablet. He hates hell.

"I was saving your life! The tanned one is so much crueller than the moose. He would have killed you. You're welcome, by the way!" He shouts back, which causes him a lot of pain because the injury may not be deadly, but it hurts a lot and Aziraphale can read it on his face.

"I don't care! You could have died to. Look at you, that will take ages to heal. You are such an irresponsible, capricious child. You could have just told me I had to get out of there! Trust me I wanted to."

"Why? What happened there?" Crowley asks suspiciously.

"Nothing." Aziraphale shuts him off. He will never tell him about Dean almost kissing him. "Why did you even let him hurt you? So stupid."

"Cut it out. I did it for you!"

"You shouldn't have done it."

"Jeez, would you calm down? I'm alive now."  
"Thank god!" Aziraphale is exasperated. He can't calm down.

"Thank you." Crowley corrects him, and he still shouts.

Aziraphale scoffs at that and keeps driving. It's so strange hearing those words coming out of Crowley, in a sincere way.

Changing the subject, he takes his bag, leaving the wheel for a second, and takes the tablet. When he feels it under his fingers it feels good, at least he did one thing right.  
"Here." He hands it to Crowley. "We are the worse thieves ever." He shakes his head slowly, smirking.

"Do you realize we could have just vanished, as we always do, instead of running and making a scene, right?" Crowley catches the tablet and embraces it.

"Oh." Aziraphale is surprised he didn't think about it.

"Yeah. You know what it means?"

"We are-" And then they finish the sentence in unison. "Starting to act human." They look at each other, and then everything is easier. They laugh at that and when silence falls, it stays, but they keep smiling at the road, sometimes at each other. They are the worse thieves, maybe, but they are the best partners in crime.

Aziraphale has taken them to his apartment and when they get in he tells Crowley to sit on the couch. When he realizes he doesn't own a first aid kit he changes himself, wipes the make-up off and heads towards the kitchen to take a towel.

"Here. Put this on your wound, and press hard. I think that's what you're supposed to do, anyway." He tosses it to Crowley across the room. He catches it and does as he's told. Aziraphale looks for the strongest thing he has to drink, that should help too.

He's occupied pouring the drinks, he doesn't notice that Crowley got up and that he's behind him now, maybe a little too close.

"I don't know how to say it." He startles Aziraphale when he says that. The clumsy angel turns around and he can feel Crowley's warm breath and body in front of him. He swallows and stares with his big blue childish eyes.

"But I'm really moved that you-" The demon continues, tapping his arm up and down gently and playfully, giving him a shiver for every touch of every finger. "Actually has a scale model Bentley in your kitchen." He looks up quickly behind Aziraphale's head, where, on a shelf, there is an actually little Bentley. He giggles amused, but Aziraphale doesn't turn back to check. He keeps looking at him and then pushes him away with a hand. "I hate you." He says but he immediately realizes that pushing him isn't a good idea.

"Ouch. Watch it, tiger."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." He hurries to assist him and they both end up sitting on the floor, because Crowley can't stand up anymore. Aziraphale then takes their drinks from the counter and they drink them silently.

"You don't." Crowley speaks after a while, which hurts him more than he expected.

"Don't want?" It seems like old good times, talking like this in his kitchen, minus the sitting on the floor part though.

"You don't hate me." Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. His face eases and he fondly smiles at him then. "My dear, of course I don't." He now realizes just how much he always felt a lot of things towards him, but never once hate. He never hated him. He actually appreciates his company more than he should, he likes it when they tease each other, he adores Crowley in his most sarcastic moments, he feels all shaky, in the best ways, when he touches him or stands near him, he wants him to be happy and yes, finally, he loves him, because how couldn't he?

Crowley touches Aziraphale's glass with his own as to make a toast. "To my favourite angel in the all world." He grins and his eyes sweeten. "To my favourite demon." Aziraphale replies.

When they are both up, and Crowley starts to feel better they decide to talk about the tablet.

"They will come looking for it, you know." Aziraphale points out.

"As if I didn't already know." Crowley scoffs, but when he sees that Aziraphale actually takes it bad he continues. "I need to hide it. And I already thought about something, don't worry."

"Such as?"

"Do you remember feeding the ducks?" He teases him.

"St. James' park? Isn't it a bit too… exposed?"

"Exactly." He smirks.

"And then what? You will just bury it somewhere?"

"That's the plan."

"It's dumb."

"Not if someone is keeping an eye on it." He raises his eyebrows and smiles devilishly.  
"Of course." Aziraphale gives up and sighs. He knows he's talking about him. "How much will I keep an eye on it?"

"Who said you'll be all alone?"

"Did you get me another pet?" He jokes. But then Crowley puts an arm around him, and while they're heading out of the house he laughs. "If you prefer thinking about me that way, then yes." He fakes a purr and keeps grinning.

Part five

They finish burying the tablet in a little spot near the ducks' pond and then feeds the animals for a while, just as they used to. Aziraphale is genuinely happy right now, he knows there are two potential killers after them, but who cares when he has Crowley next to him. He remembers the last time they were there nostalgically, but then thinks about how making new memories is always better. He's happy he can spend some time with him again, and although he likes being alone, having company is always pleasant. He's grateful for it. As is Crowley.

"You are an asshole." Aziraphale starts, and Crowley looks surprise for a second. "But I really missed you." He hits Crowley softly with his shoulder. "You can count on me for this. You can always count on me." He states in the end, all warm inside and blushing on the outside. Crowley just beams at that.

"So did you think about it?" The demon says.

"About what?" Aziraphale turns to look at him.

"About your favour. I owe you one."

"Oh, right." It takes him three seconds to know what he really wants.

"So? What do you want?" Crowley swings awkwardly like a little child, waiting for the answer.

"You." Aziraphale smiles sweetly. "You, always you. I want to be there when you will be happy, or down, in danger or king of the world for all I care. I want to share every moment with you and never lose you again." When he realizes Crowley's look isn't the one he's expecting he clarifies. "If you'll allow me, of course."

"Yes." Crowley quietly says, but he's exploding of happiness and satisfaction inside.

"Because you are my best friend." Aziraphale tries to justify himself, since maybe that sounds a little too much, but there is no need for that.

"Oh, angel, shut up." Crowley takes him by his jacket and leans in close. "Let's seal this deal then."

He smirks and the next second they are kissing. A lazy, kind but still excited kiss, and in the warmth of the moment Aziraphale and Crowley's fondness truly becomes ineffable, and everything is just as it has to be, perfect.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This was a thing I wrote for my best friend's birthday. Please don't judge me too hard for this because it was really made with all the best intentions, plus I wanted it to be stupid and funny so there's that :) 
> 
> p.s. sorry for the English, it might be bad somewhere in there


End file.
